Book 5: Wyoming Christmas Reunion
A love that never died could be rekindled this Christmas!
Helen Blackwell never stopped loving horse trainer Nash…even when she divorced him. When the stoic cowboy bets the ranch on her winning a cutting horse competition—and she’s terrified to ride—she wonders if there’s any hope for them. Renewing the love between them may take more than a moment under the mistletoe. But working together could heal past hurts and give their five-year-old son his Christmas wish!
Excerpt:
Helen went to chase Nash down, finding him in a stall across from the roan. “Hey.” Inwardly, Helen grimaced. That one word proved she’d become just as bad at communication as he was.
“Hey.” Nash slid a halter on a pretty, little bay. “We’ve got four horses scheduled for shoes today, all board and train.” Meaning they were being boarded here while Nash trained them in cutting. “First four stalls. They’re all good about having their hooves handled but be careful just the same.”
That’s all you’ve got to say to me? What about that kiss?
Nash’s gaze cut her way, brown eyes widening slightly.
“Oh.” Cheeks heating, Helen realized what had happened. “I said that out loud.”
He nodded, reaching for a curry comb, and giving the filly a quick brushing. “Not much to explain except to apologize for my behavior when I… It’s not right to kiss another man’s intended.”
This all sounded very rehearsed. And Helen should know, having rehearsed so many lines to say to Phil. But she’d rehearsed none for Nash.
Why didn’t I rehearse anything to say to Nash?
She stood outside the stall, waiting for him to say something more.
And of course, he said nothing.
Something inside Helen shifted. Something that had been off its axis for nearly four years. Before she’d met Nash, she hadn’t waited on a man to lead the courtship dance. Before Nash, if she’d seen something she wanted, she’d gone after it.
She looked at Nash. She wanted Nash.
“I gave Phil his ring back.” I’m free. She couldn’t say those last two words. Something may have shifted inside, but she was still afraid there was more at stake now than when she’d been young and single and had sung to a handsome stranger—him—across a crowded bar—the Cranky Crow.
Nash’s strokes of the curry comb slowed. “I didn’t mean for that to happen with Phil. Sorry.”
This man…
Helen’s shoulders tensed. “I didn’t break up with Phil because of you.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “Not everything in my life is about you, Nash Blackwell. I have my own friends, my own place and my own problems.” Helen frowned. It was one thing to stop being a timid field mouse and another to saunter around sounding off like a well-fed barn cat. “Never mind.”
She stalked toward the other end of the barn.
“You have problems?” Nash emerged from the stall, leading the bay.
“Nothing I can’t shoulder alone, handsome.” That last bit was added by Helen of Old, teasing because he’d riled her, and she wanted a reaction in turn.
She hadn’t seen the man since before Thanksgiving, not since his lips had brushed against hers. And now, instead of showing so much as a glimmer of happiness at her broken engagement, Nash was still the reticent man he must have always been.
“Handsome…” He chuckled, sounding the way he had when he’d courted her, back before they’d discovered their buckets of confidence had leaks.
Why was he acting this way now?
Helen whirled. “Oh, no. Don’t you go being charming now.” She should have stopped there. But the emotional tap had been turned on by the events of the past few weeks and words flowed out full blast. “After that drive-by kiss of yours, you should be explaining your feelings and intentions, not giving me the silent treatment. I am your—” Shoot. “—was your wife. And if you have any hope of winning me back, you will move those lips of yours out of the satisfied-from-kissing-you position and into explain-yourself mode.”
Nash stilled, humor visibly evaporating from his features.
Double shoot. She’d scared him worse than a deer startled in the woods during hunting season.
She needed a moment—better yet, a day—to reconcile the turmoil inside her.
Nash opened his mouth, but words were a long time coming. “I…uh…”
It was taking him too long to fill the void between them. And a discombobulated Helen still had things to say. “If you play your cards right, handsome, I’ll consider taking you back. But I’m a woman with options. I’m not waiting around forever for you to return to your senses.”
You’ve pushed him too far, Helen.
His brows drew together. “Helen—”
“Too late.” She held up a hand, marveling at her nerve, but needing to escape. “I’m not listening. I have work to do.”
“Hang on.” Nash wore a determined look on his face. “First off, I have always been charming.”
Prove it, she wanted to say. Instead, she countered, “Not true. One hundred percent not true.” A dare, plain and simple.
“Now, Helen…” He wasn’t taking the bait.
“No—no.” She’d let him lead the tone of their relationship for years. That hadn’t gotten him back. She’d tried some of her old bluntness of character. That didn’t seem to be working either. It was time to retreat. “I’m a single mom. A business owner. And a woman of principle. I don’t need a man to complete me.”
But she wanted one. Him.
His lips twitched. Likely because he knew what she wanted.
He’s still rejecting you. Do not smile.
“I said no charm.” Helen spun around and told herself to breathe. She stepped into the nearest stall, one marked with a nameplate that read: Beanie, owned by Sylvie. An older, plain brown gelding stared at her with a bit of suspicion. She dug a mini carrot from her pocket and then extended a hand toward Beanie. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’ve upset you and I need to take a chill pill.”
Beanie ambled forward, extending his nose until his lips gummed her palm.
“You, my friend, are more charming than my ex,” she told the horse.
“I heard that.” Nash stood on the other side of the stall door, having followed her. “Never enter a horse’s space in anger, honey. It could be dangerous.”
Helen rolled her eyes.
“Bad day at the office?” He stared at her ringless left hand.
She scoffed. It was either that or crumple into the straw, death by a combination of unrequited love and mortifying embarrassment.
“Ah. I guess Phil didn’t take your friend speech very well.” Nash turned away, leading the bay toward the training arena. “Beanie doesn’t need shoes, by the way. It’s the first four stalls, remember?”
“Thanks for that explanation about the kiss, handsome.” Her words shook, darn it. “Your communication skills are why we aren’t married anymore.” Helen exited the stall, but not before Beanie nudged her backside with his nose. “Hey!”
Nash paused in the breezeway, staring at her over his shoulder. “That’s not why we aren’t married.”
“Well, it should have been.”
The Story Behind the Story
I LOVE writing Blackwell stories. It’s fun to create a connected series with four of my favorite writing friends. We originally came up with the idea in 2016 and pitched it to Harlequin. When the first set of 5 books launched in 2018, we knew we had to revisit Big E Blackwell in a new way. We pitched another set of five books to Harlequin. And…you guessed it! When the second series launched in 2020, we got together to pitch the series again. Will we write another round? You’ll have to wait and see!
When we first talked about writing another branch of the Blackwell family, Nash and Helen sprang to mind, nearly fully formed. Fans of Yellowstone might be able to trace the roots of Nash’s character to that of the TV show. And Helen, she was just there, loyal and loving of her man despite Nash’s battle with alcohol and their divorce. She’s a woman who’s made hard choices and realizes this is her last chance to help win back her man and maybe help save the Blackwell family’s Flying Spur Ranch.
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